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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683354">Destroyer (walls and dignity)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(if Mr X counts), Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Necrophilia, Size Difference</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:28:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr X changes his route and Leon's night gets even worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leon S. Kennedy/Mr. X | Tyrant T-00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Destroyer (walls and dignity)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has started to become a pattern. Whoops.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wall exploded.</p><p>Leon swore and did a full 180 when he caught sight of the Tyrant through the rubble dust. It could punch through walls? Somehow he wasn't overly surprised.</p><p>Leon ran back into the observation room and vaulted through the broken mirror again. He ducked down in the corner and tried to keep his breathing quiet. With any luck, the Tyrant wouldn't spot him and stomp off to look elsewhere — it had worked a few times already.</p><p>The door slammed open in the other room and there was the usual shuffle-stomp of the Tyrant fitting his way through doorways intended for normal-sized people. Then even, heavy footsteps as the Tyrant circled the observation room.</p><p>Leon pressed himself against the wall and held his breath.</p><p>The Tyrant made another short circuit of the room, then the door slammed again and loud footsteps passed down the corridor outside.</p><p>"Thank fuck," Leon breathed. He got to his feet and did a quick stock check. He'd let the Tyrant get further away before venturing into the heart of the station again.</p><p>Wait.</p><p><em>Shit</em>.</p><p>The footsteps were getting louder again; the Tyrant was coming back. Had he realised that Leon couldn't have gotten past and must still be hidden in this dead-end? Leon tucked himself back into the corner and hoped it held up as a good hiding spot the second time around.</p><p>But the Tyrant didn't go back into the observation room. No, that would be too easy.</p><p>The door to the interrogation room shattered in one hit. Leon kicked himself as he sprung up to leap through the broken mirror — if the Tyrant could smash walls he could definitely smash doors.</p><p>Leon didn't make it. The Tyrant grabbed Leon as his fingers brushed the mirror edge and threw him against the back wall. Leon fell to the ground, winded.</p><p>He stumbled upright. He had to keep moving or the Tyrant would —</p><p>He punched Leon.</p><p>Leon reeled and dropped his shotgun. <em> Fuck! </em> That hurt! He had to get out, but he didn't know which way he could go. Everything was blurring as he fought for air. The Tyrant was in front of him. There was a wall behind him. And he'd run out of flash-bangs when he'd last confronted some of those crawling bastards.</p><p>Shit, shit, <em>shit</em>.</p><p>The Tyrant grabbed Leon by the front of his vest and picked him up. Leon kicked, but it did little good. the Tyrant tossed him casually at the sturdy interrogation table.</p><p>Leon hit the edge with a barely-stifled yell of pain. He pushed off the table, willing his legs to respond and make the sprint to the crumbling doorway. He got all of one step before he was grabbed again.</p><p>The Tyrant shoved Leon face-first down on the table. Leon scrambled to get his pistol, his knife — <em> anything </em> — but the Tyrant grabbed both his wrists and pinned them behind his back in one hand.</p><p>This was how Leon was going to die. He shut his eyes and prayed it would be quick.</p><p>The Tyrant ripped Leon's belt off — Leon managed to feel a stab of fury amidst the overwhelming terror, because that had been a new leather belt, goddamnit! — and yanked his pants down. Leon's fear reached another level, a cold thrill ran down his spine.</p><p><em>Not </em> a quick death then.</p><p>The Tyrant stroked over Leon's naked ass with his hand. Leon tried to squirm away, but all that got him was a twisted shoulder and a squeeze of warning around his trapped wrists. He could only lie there as the Tyrant prodded his asshole with one giant finger.</p><p>It <em> burned </em> going in. No amount of clenching was keeping it out. Leon panted harshly against the wood grain, tears leaking out of his eyes, as the Tyrant filled him with a finger.</p><p>One finger became two far quicker than Leon would've liked — he really would've prefered <em> none</em>, had that been an option — and it didn't hurt any less. The Tyrant squeezed Leon's wrists whenever he tried to fight too hard, but generally seemed to accept a certain level of swearing and squirming as part of the deal.</p><p>The Tyrant took his fingers away. Leon had a bare moment to relax, then something heavy and broad started to press against Leon's rim. <em>Far </em> bigger than two fingers. It was going to break him apart.</p><p>"Wait!" He cried desperately. It was too much. Way too much.</p><p>Leon managed to wrench his arm free and dig through three pockets before he both found what he was looking for and the Tyrant grabbed his wrist. The massive hand squeezed until Leon dropped the bottle of gun oil, freshly-bought for his new job.</p><p>"It's not a trick! I swear," Leon pleaded, wishing it was somehow a trick anyway. "It'll make it feel better."</p><p>The Tyrant let go of his wrist but kept his hand ready to grab if Leon tried anything. As good as Leon was going to get.</p><p>"See?" Leon hurriedly unscrewed the cap one-handed and dipped the tip of his pinky in. He rubbed his fingers together. "It's oil. It'll make things slide way easier."</p><p>This was, unfortunately, hinging on the idea that the Tyrant wanted things to go easier. Leon gritted his teeth and slowly touched the Tyrant's cold hand with oily fingers and gave a quick rub.</p><p>"It'll feel even better in me," Leon promised.</p><p>The Tyrant took Leon's arm and folded it behind his back again, pinning both wrists with one huge hand — in a more secure grip this time, Leon noticed with a silent groan of frustration. Then he returned for the bottle.</p><p>Leon had a moment to pray that something in what he'd said had gotten through and the bottle wasn't going to be smashed against a wall before the Tyrant fucked him without it anyway, then he jumped as the short thin bottleneck was shoved past his rim and the contents were spilt directly into his ass.</p><p>"Fuck!" Leon shuddered. Cold and liquid, that was the strangest sensation he'd ever felt — and that included all the freaky zombie shit that had gone on tonight.</p><p>The Tyrant pulled the bottle out — and <em> now </em> it ended up smashed on a wall — and Leon could feel some oil escape him and drip down his balls. The Tyrant pressed that absurdly massive cock against Leon's ass and rubbed it through the leaking oil.</p><p>Then he started to push in again.</p><p>"Shit. Shit. Fuck." Leon did his best to relax, but that was still a shit-ton of dick to take on minimal prep.</p><p>The head popped through the rim, then the rest of it followed in one steady, inexorable stroke. Leon forgot how to breathe, he didn't think he <em> could</em>.</p><p>That monster had thought this would work with no lube?</p><p>Fully seated inside Leon, the Tyrant held still for a moment. Leon turned his face into the table and tried not to sob. The Tyrant was toying with him.</p><p>Then he began to move and Leon bit his lip to keep from whimpering. Even with the prep, that was a <em> hell </em> of a lot to take. His hipbones knocked into the table edge on every thrust.</p><p>The Tyrant settled into a brutal rhythm, taking his pleasure and giving no care to Leon.</p><p>And the sick thing was, even forcibly pinned down and unwillingly fucked by a monster, Leon's body began to get used to the feeling. With his eyes closed, he could pretend he was somewhere else, with <em> someone </em> else. He could pretend he'd never even <em> heard </em> of Raccoon City.</p><p>The Tyrant pulled out. Leon was jolted back to the present and dared to hope that it was over.</p><p>It wasn't. The Tyrant just shoved Leon off the table and face-down on the floor then hoisted his hips up, before sliding straight back in and returning to his previous unyielding rhythm.</p><p>Whether it was because of the change in position or just because there was more space now Leon's stomach wasn't pressed against the edge of the table, it was a smoother ride.</p><p>The Tyrant shifted his grip on Leon's wrists until he had one in each hand, then put them above Leon's head so he was covering his entire body and they were both on their hands and knees. The further change in position meant that every dozen strokes or so, Leon had to bite the shoulder of his RCPD vest to stop from moaning at the sharp pleasure that spiked through him.</p><p>He wasn't going to get off on this. He <em> wasn't</em>.</p><p>With a grunt — the only noise Leon had heard him make the whole night — the Tyrant slowed his thrusts and came, buried deep in Leon. It went on and on and Leon gagged as he felt thick, cold cum spill in his guts.</p><p>He was going to have the <em> weirdest </em> shit after all this.</p><p>With one last pet of Leon's ass, the Tyrant pulled out and got to his feet. Leon took a moment to breathe, then pushed himself up and yanked his pants back up. Thankfully they fit well enough to stay up, even without his belt.</p><p>The Tyrant was watching him intently, but making no move. A moment of peace in the otherwise horrifying night. Leon knew it wouldn't last long. He snatched his gun up.</p><p>A terrible, disgusting part of Leon wanted to ask for a bit more reciprocation. He ruthlessly ignored it.</p><p>"I guess this is the part where we go back to killing each other?" Leon said.</p><p>The Tyrant held up his hands.</p><p>"What does that mean? Wait? Ten? Ten what?"</p><p>The Tyrant dropped a finger. Leon turned and ran as fast as he could, wincing when he discovered his <em> fun </em> new limp.</p><p>"My ass is worth a hell of a lot more than a ten-second head start!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>When it happened to Jill: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23635081">Apex</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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